


The Beach

by DevBasaa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Drama, Lie Low At Lupin's, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:22:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DevBasaa/pseuds/DevBasaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even fond memories can be painful and hard to face.  A Lie Low at Lupin's fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Beach

**Author's Note:**

> First posted to LJ August 2007 (archived to AO3)

~*~

Sirius sat staring out the window, knees drawn up. He held his legs against his body, squeezing them close, as if trying to occupy as small a space as possible. Remus recognized the effort. He'd done it, too--as youthful attempts to hide in the shadows and escape notice. He frowned to see Sirius echo his old behavior. It shouldn't be like that; he should feel welcome, comfortable.

But after thirteen long, painful years, days filled with confusion and anger, should he really be so surprised?

Remus lingered across the living room, straightening a book here, a vase there, until he arrived at Sirius' side. Sirius had been at the window since breakfast.

"Would you like to go outside?"

"You know I can't." Sirius didn't look away from the window. Since arriving from Hogwarts, per Dumbledore's order to lie low, his presence had been as substantial as his reflection in the windowpane: thin, faded, distant.

Remus had kept his distance too, and decided it best not to think about why. When he did consider his reticence, a small panic rose up, gurgling in his throat. He swallowed down the emotion down like thick, medicinal syrup and refused to grimace. Sirius didn't need to know his anxieties; he didn't need to know of his numbness.

"There's always Padfoot."

Sirius glanced at him, his expression flat, and then he stared out the window again. "I've spent the last several months outside as Padfoot."

Remus shivered, a chill washed over him. He knew the words without hearing Sirius say them: From one prison to another. Was this any better, trapped here with an old, decrepit friend?

Remus laid his hand on Sirius' shoulder and squeezed. He wanted Sirius to be relaxed here, even if he hadn't stopped hesitating, moving hither and yon, since Sirius arrived. In the glass, Sirius' translucent expression tightened; he closed his eyes.

"Maybe somewhere different, then. The mountains--"

Sirius' shoulder hardened to stone. "Don't bother--"

"The beach?"

After a breath, Sirius opened his eyes. He raised his gaze and Remus figured he looked into the eyes of his own transparent reflection. His lips quirked, but Remus hesitated to call it a smile.

"Maybe."

~~*~~

It hadn't taken much effort to rent a car or pack a picnic lunch. 

The night before they left, Sirius said something about sitting in the back as they drove, that it'd probably be preferred.

Remus frowned when he looked at him. "Preferred?"

Sirius' gaze narrowed a moment, then, "Yes. I thought it might be...easier for you that way."

"But you'll be Padfoot, won't you?"

"Yes."

For a moment, Remus thought Sirius might be uncomfortable with him, but that couldn't be. He wouldn't let it be--they were friends; Sirius was his guest. Remus waved off the comment. "That won't be necessary. Riding in the front seat is fine with me."

Sirius stared at him for a stretched moment before he said a simple, "All right," and turned away.

Later, as he had every night since he'd arrived, Sirius settled on the living room sofa to sleep. And, just as with every previous night, Remus woke in the early hours, chilled and sensing a presence in his bedroom. He saw nothing, heard nothing, but knew he wasn't alone. He tucked the blankets tighter around his neck and pretended to still be asleep, and soon was again. Once, perhaps a week ago, he thought he'd felt Padfoot lick his fingers as they dangled over the mattress edge, but he didn't speak of it the next morning--or any other morning.

Driving to the beach, Padfoot's head out the passenger side window, Remus said nothing again. But, of course, neither did Sirius.

~~*~~

It took a little extra driving to find an empty beach. Remus supposed it hardly mattered--he was just a man at the beach with his dog. But he sought solitude in everything; he had for years.

Thirteen years.

They'd started early enough to reach the shore by noontime. It was cool for June, clouds covered the sky and the sea wind whipped over the sand and rocky shoreline, keeping warmth-seeking bathers at bay.

Remus sat on a stone, a blanket spread at his feet, their lunch reduced to a pile of paper wrappings and rinds. He'd fed Padfoot bits of sandwich and even a few slices of melon. He'd snorted at that. Only an animagus dog would eat fruit so willingly.

Remus had considered suggesting that once on the beach, Sirius would be safe to leave his doggy form behind. But, as they'd driven into the seaside town, Remus had seen three wanted posters--the Muggle variety, with Sirius' face frozen and enraged--and knew they couldn't be that lenient. Sirius knew it, too. Padfoot had been snout open, tongue hanging, the wind laying his ears back, until they saw the first poster. At the second sighting, he sat calmly in the seat, staring forward, looking very un-dog-like. By the third, he'd laid down, his hind hanging over the seat edge, his head on his paws.

Now, though, after a decent meal, Padfoot ran in the surf, kicking up spray wherever he went. At times he was a spot on the horizon, far down the beach, chasing seagulls. Other times he stayed near, dancing with the tide, in and out of the water as the waves rolled ashore.

To see him play made Remus smile. No, more than smile. It warmed him. It reminded him of days gone by, of full moon midnights running with Padfoot. They'd had a good friendship as youths, full of mischief and marauding, casual talks and energetic days. They'd studied--more for Remus' benefit than either Sirius or James'--and planned and created together. Sirius always seemed to be by his side, laughing and teasing...and kissing and pushing his hands up under his frayed jumper.

Remus' breath caught.

He hadn't thought of that in...years. Not since he'd moved from their shared flat. Remus' eyes widened. Had it really been that long? Had he blocked it all from his mind? Was that the last time he'd remembered the tangible thrill of Sirius' fingers and mouth? It astounded him that he could have dismissed their life together and forgotten the promises they'd shared. Even under the shadow of war, they'd exchanged dreams and plans.

"It'll be our place, you and me. You don't need to keep calling it my flat."

"Your uncle gave _you_ that money--"

"And _I_ said I wanted you there with me and I meant that. Always."

"Sirius..."

"Hey, no looking away. It's you and me, together, always. I want you there. Don't you want that, too?"

"Yes...with everything I am.

Remus' chest heaved; his heart pounded. Was this how amnesiacs felt when it all came back? The overwhelming rush of emotion and memory tumbled through his body, physically smashing around inside him. Remus shook his head, as if that could un-fog his mind. Had he really lost the memories or only ignored what he couldn't face? It seemed impossible to have forgotten Sirius' youthful, handsome face smiling at him, only for him.

It took him a moment to realize the warmth welling inside him wasn't strictly internal. He glanced up into a sunbeam that'd broken through the clouds, blue sky shining behind it.

"Remus?"

Remus looked towards the call of his name. Ankle deep in the water, Sirius stood, the spreading sunrays shimmering on the water and creating a halo around him. His black hair shone and, for a second, it seemed he held the sunlight in his open palm.

Words trapped behind the lump in Remus' throat. He reached a hand out to Sirius and, after a splash, he was there, kneeling before him, kissing his fingers, murmuring against them.

"I wondered how long it'd take for you to come back to me."

Remus touched Sirius' hair as if he hadn't seen it before now. It slipped through his fingers like raw silk, rough and soft at once. It took a shaky breath to find his voice. "What?"

Sirius looked up at him. "I had been so thrilled to come to you. Dumbledore couldn't have ordered a better thing for me. But from the moment I arrived, you've remained distant. You've barely touched me since the shack. You've been..."

He hesitated and Remus swallowed hard, knowing the word. "Cold."

Sirius nodded.

Remus closed his eyes. He had been conflicted when Sirius arrived--glad, at first, happy to see his friend--but then Sirius had causally put an arm around his waist and it'd startled him beyond thought. His touch had been warm, affectionate, familiar--and terrifying. Remus had thrown up his barriers immediately; it'd been so automatic he hadn't seen the change as his own.

"It was too much, I couldn't--" He shook his head. "I'd resigned myself to being alone, years ago. I'd decided it was better that way." He snorted softly. "I was a priest without a god. And your touch awakened things I'd let go."

"Are you sorry I've brought them back?"

Remus opened his eyes; he caressed Sirius' cheek. "Not sorry. A little scared. I've already lost you once."

"And I can't promise how long I can stay."

"That's what scares me."

There were voices in the distance and before Remus could even say the words, Padfoot was there again, his head on Remus' knees. It was a relief that he could disguise himself so easily.

Remus scratched his ears, smiling. "You mutt. I can't keep my heart from you, can I?"

Padfoot barked and then ran away. For a moment, Remus thought he meant for him to follow, to play in the surf, but he realized it was more deliberate than that. Padfoot ran up the beach, ears perked, until Remus couldn't see where he'd gone. He waited, listening for the pounding of Padfoot's paws against the sea-soaked sand.

But it was Sirius who walked back.

"We're alone again," he said as he sank down before Remus. He took his hand and kissed his palm, then closed his fingers around it--a youthful seal of a promise. Sirius had done it whenever he vowed anything to Remus.

Remus frowned. "Don't do that. Don't make a promise you know you can't keep."

Sirius didn't look up. The wind stirred his hair; the sea breeze had warmed when the clouds broke. He cleared his throat. "That's not it, actually." He kept his voice soft. "It's saying for me what I'm not sure I can say right now."

"That you love me?"

Sirius looked up then, his eyes very bright. "Yeah."

Remus' hand shook as he cupped Sirius' cheek. He'd held back so much and what for? This time--this moment--became infinitely precious. He loved his man--he may have never stopped--why waste these few days over promises neither of them had meant to break?

"I’m sorry I spoiled these last several days."

Sirius leaned into his palm. "They weren't spoiled. I was with you, wasn't I?"

Sirius rose up, kneeling, and slowly kissed him. Their lips parted, in unison, the kiss deepening. Remus could have sobbed for how amazing it felt: his soul, his world, had returned.

Sirius slipped his arms around his waist and drew him down into his lap. The kiss didn't break but extended into their bodies, fitting them together as perfectly as their mouths.

At great length, they drew apart, but only when spray pricked their faces. The tide had come unrelenting and half the beach was already underwater; the sun had drifted lower in the sky.

Sirius cupped Remus' nape and then snorted when the wind blew another flash of water against them. "I think the beach is trying to shoo us off."

Remus worried his lip between his teeth. "Yes, I suppose it's time to go back."

He shifted from Sirius' lap, but, Great Merlin, he didn't want to leave. The warmth, the revelation, rediscovering Sirius' love--it made this place a sanctuary his home had yet to be.

Sirius caressed his cheek as he stood, sending a shiver down Remus' spine. He grinned; of course, they could change that now.

Sirius stretched, his fingertips pointing to the now distant clouds. "I'll help pack up, but I'd better change back to Padfoot for the ride."

He started to pick up the remains of their picnic, but Remus grabbed his arm and drew him close; he whispered against his neck. "Tonight, don't come to watch me sleep."

Sirius looked at him, eyes wide. Did it surprise him that Remus knew, that he'd known from the first night? Remus grinned. "Lay with me instead."

Sirius' smile spread as broad as the sea-blue sky above them. "If you want."

"With everything that I am."

They kissed again, but didn't linger. With the picnic and blanket packed, Remus watched Padfoot bound for the car, barking and impatient.

The drive home would be much improved, full of anticipation, the tension between them washed away with an ocean wave. As they pulled away from the beach, another smile crept over Remus' face. He hoped they christened the flat the moment they arrived.

Because it was _them_ now, as they'd been before. No more looking away. They were older, certainly, perhaps only relatively wiser, but warm and open and full of hope.

And together, always. Again.

 

The End


End file.
